


Wings of Destiny

by jaskiersvalley (connorssock)



Series: Geraskier Week [8]
Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Ciri knows best, M/M, creature!Jaskier, fallen angel!Jaskier, idiots getting together
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-10
Updated: 2020-03-10
Packaged: 2021-03-01 02:08:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,519
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23097610
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/connorssock/pseuds/jaskiersvalley
Summary: Every time Jaskier spoke about destiny, he said “those linked by destiny will always find each other”. Everyone else said “people linked…” which hurt Geralt. Did Jaskier not see him as a person?
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Series: Geraskier Week [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1650898
Comments: 12
Kudos: 670





	Wings of Destiny

For all the claims about Witchers and their abilities, it took Geralt an embarrassingly long time to notice things about Jaskier. And an even longer period to actually figure out what it all meant. Though, to be fair, he didn’t so much figure it out as more that he got smacked in the face by it.

Some things, Geralt could almost excuse himself for not noticing. Jaskier was a bard with ineffable whims and plans. He came and went as he pleased, flitting in and out of Geralt’s life with an almost supernatural sense of when things were going wrong. It was the cause of that argument on the mountain. Geralt, tired, frustrated and hurt, took his rage out on his longest standing friend, just because he had shit timing. It wasn’t right, it wasn’t fair. After that Jaskier disappeared for a year. There were murmurs of him, songs sung that he’d left behind but Geralt couldn’t seem to catch up with him.

Destiny did though and suddenly Geralt had custody of his orphaned Child Surprise. When she told him, with all the serious wisdom of a child that “those linked by destiny will always find each other,” it made Geralt pause mid-motion.

“What did you say?” So Ciri repeated herself. “No, it’s people linked by destiny.”

“That’s not what I was taught.” Which could only mean one thing. While Geralt had been busy pretending his Child Surprise didn’t exist, Jaskier had spent enough time with her to teach her his own stupid little phrase. It was another reason Geralt was so angry with him. Because, deep down, he knew that despite all the shit he’d spewed about Destiny, it affect him. Destiny impacted on his life as much as anyone else’s. And Jaskier knew that too. But whenever he said that stupid phrase, emphasising the “those” rather than saying “people” while looking at Geralt meaningfully, it made Geralt’s heart twist. He knew most didn’t consider him a person, a Witcher was an outsider, a mutant. To hear Jaskier dehumanise him like that burned.

As things tended to go, Geralt and Ciri were on the run, pursued even as they tried to get to Kaer Morhen for safety. That was when Geralt quite literally tripped over Jaskier. Or rather, Jaskier’s lute. He hefted it up, surprised by its weight and eyed the bard who had been doing who knew what by those bushes. Probably foraging if the berries and leaves in his hands were anything to go by.

“Geralt,” he greeted, a little cold and wary.

“Bard.”

“Jaskier!” Ciri squealed and ran at him with a jump into his arms. All the carefully picked berries went flying as Jaskier scrambled to catch her. By way of apology, Ciri invited him to travel with them, a knowing “those linked by destiny” bullshit making her lips curl up. To make matters worse, Jaskier smiled at her and accepted the offer of travelling together.

Which was when Geralt noticed the second strange thing. Jaskier liked to carry his heavy lute on his back. Not slung over one shoulder, not resting on a strap and bouncing against his belly. Fully on his back like some strange bag. It wasn’t up to Geralt to question it though, it was probably some strange custom Jaskier had seen on his travels and decided to imitate.

They had enough coin for a room. And a bath. It had been pouring it down with rain, the three of them were soaking wet and drenched in mud. At least Ciri was just wet rather than muddy as she had been given the privilege of riding on Roach.

“You both smell. Go take a bath,” she ordered haughtily from under the furs. There was a knowing look in her eye and Geralt didn’t put up much of a fight.

“I’ll wash your back,” Jaskier offered softly. He even pulled out a couple of salts and oils from his bag.

They didn’t argue about how this was going to go. Old habits were easy to fall back into. Geralt bathed first, Jaskier helped him wash, pulled filth out of his hair and scrubbed his back. Once Geralt was done, he left Jaskier to wash himself. The bard was never covered in filth like he was, so didn’t need help, his hair never so messy he couldn’t deal with it by himself.

When Geralt returned to their room, freshly clean, he was greeted by Ciri’s glare.

“Why don’t you help Jaskier?” Voice accusing and displeased, she had Geralt returning the the tub room very quickly.

“Need a hand?” He rumbled as he stepped back into the room. Opposite him, Jaskier yanked his shirt back down with wide eyes.

“No, thank you.”

The words and actions screamed of guilt though and Geralt frowned. All these years, he hadn’t seen Jaskier naked. Or even shirtless. Despite the number of times Geralt had been nude or partially undressed around him. What was Jaskier hiding?

“Ciri said I should help.”

“Ciri isn’t the boss of you. I’m quite fine, thank you.” Terse and succinct, Geralt could almost feel the unease and rolling off Jaskier.

“I’m not defying my Child Surprise and risking her wrath.”

Sighing in defeat, Jaskier could agree with that statement. “Very well. But turn away.”

Obedient, Geralt turned his back to Jaskier and listened to the clothes being taken off, the water sloshing as Jaskier stepped into it and bite down on a groan. Curiosity got the better of Geralt and he peered over his shoulder.

No matter how much he looked, Jaskier looked…well, normal. He’d expected some horrifying deformity or scar which the bard might be shy about but there was none of that.

The sound of approaching footsteps made Jaskier’s eyes shoot open. He watched with a small amount of fear as the Witcher approached.

“Geralt.” There was a warning in his voice but it went ignored.

“Let me wash your back.”

Geralt sat behind the tub and waited for Jaskier to lean forward. He wasn’t going to take no for an answer. Slowly, reluctantly and hesitantly, Jaskier pulled away from the edge of the tub.

On his back were two long lines. Geralt had dismembered enough winged creatures to know what he was seeing. But it didn’t make sense. Jaskier was no harpy, no dragon.

“I’m sorry.” The words from Jaskier startled him and he gave a curious “hmm” to encourage him to keep talking. When no words came forth from the usually verbose bard, Geralt took matters into his own hand.

“What are you?”

It took a minute for Jaskier to answer, voice soft and hoarse. “An angel. Or rather, a fallen one.” More silence but Geralt began to wash his back, waiting for the story to continue. “I was a guardian angel. And I failed. Got distracted by the choir, took my eyes off my charge. In that time, he was abandoned to a fate cruel and harsh. His mother, under the influence of a demon, allowed her son to be left, to be mutated into something else, embark on a path Fate hoped would never happen.”

Geralt drew in a breathe, hoping he wasn’t understanding it right. Because if he was…

“I was cast out and Destiny linked me to who was my charge. To witness my mistake and try and ease it in any way I could. See, those linked by destiny will always find each other.”

It finally clicked and Geralt closed his eyes against the onslaught of emotions he didn’t even have words for. Jaskier had never dehumanised him, he was referring to himself all along. The lute was heavy, probably a similar weight to the wings he missed so much. And destiny had them linked, it was why Jaskier showed up in his life so often. Probably to mitigate some disaster. He didn’t make life more difficult for Geralt, he made it easier. All this was crowned off with what sounded like eons of guilt at failing. At seeing the choir and wanting to join rather than protect some child. Fate was cruel to have allowed him to fall and become a bard.

Geralt didn’t know what to say. How to absolve Jaskier. Because it wasn’t alright, his life as a Witcher was not an easy one and, especially at the start, Geralt had raged against the powers that be for the hand he had been given in life. But it wasn’t all bad, he got so much out of it, some things he would never trade. Like a bard who didn’t seem to age, a Child Surprise who knew everything better. That was a thought, she probably did know about this.

“Ciri?”

“She knows. Some aren’t destined to be kept in the shadows of not knowing.”

Nodding, Geralt returned to washing Jaskier’s back, fingers gentle over the long healed scars, massaging phantom pains from the muscles around them. He didn’t claim to understand many things in life, rebelled against destiny and fate at every turn he could. But it had brought Jaskier into his life and, for that, he was grateful.

**Author's Note:**

> Stories tend to go up on tumblr before on here. So get ahead if you want by finding me on there as @jaskiersvalley


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